Time stretched and crawling,
falls , the morning is twilight,
reddened vein of my raped prints.
Crawling skin in a cage
brutal sonnets engulfed in fate.
Tearing , touching , the night is gone,
it's too late , there is no more, passion
has been ripped away like a disease.
The sounds of gray roses , the tears of my mind ,
the numbness of my body,
my eyes I cannot see.
A toast , no wine , just wallflowers.